Opinion

COLUMN: What if we really lived each day as though it were our last?

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I'm sure you've heard the phrase many times: "Live each day as though it's your last." Many famous folks have said something along those lines, whether it was Eckhart Tolle, Ghandi or Steve Jobs. Well, I've been inspired to give it a try.

Let’s see how it goes.

3 a.m. Wake wife with amorous intentions. Pushes me away. “You crazy? It’s the middle of the night.” I say it’s time to seize the day, but she’s dozed off. Undaunted, go downstairs and crank stereo with favourite all-time songs. Day must have cool soundtrack. I’m belting words to Van Halen’s “Jump,” imaginary mic in hand, dancing in the buff, channelling Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Feels awesome! Song ends, open eyes to see wife and boys standing in doorway. I give them huge hug. So precious. Love them so much.

“What’s wrong with Daddy, Mommy?” six-year-old asks.

3:30 a.m. Go for jog. Muscles in motion, brisk air, sleeping city. Glorious! Pouring rain like pleasant shower. Stop at 7-Eleven, take maximum from bank machine, give woman twenty to let me put mouth under Slurpee nozzle while she fills it. Huge headache, but super fun.

4:30 a.m. Home. Eat pound of bacon, three eggs, three cups coffee. Mmmm. Call guy who wronged me in high school, tell him to F-off. “Who’s this?” says a groggy voice. Hang up. Catharsis. Resolve to keep positive now on.

5:30 a.m. Call work. Leave message: I quit. Forgo shower, toothbrush, handwashing etc. Wasted time. Dishes in sink. Bills in trash.

6 a.m. Family finally wakes. Promise to buy breakfast, drag on SkyTrain to downtown. Sing full voice on ride, seek riders for impromptu performance of PSY’s Gangnam Style. Elderly Greek woman surprisingly limber. Wife and sons sit across aisle, avoid eye contact.

7 a.m. Breakfast at Griffins at Hotel Vancouver. Order champagne. Slip waiter $20—make it snappy! More eggs, fancy ham, coffee. Strange rumbling in stomach. Bit sleepy.

8 a.m. We’re the kings of the world! At prow of Canada Place doing Titanic with sons. Fun shouting in public. Detained briefly by security.

9 a.m. Sign over mutual funds to helicopter pilot for tour of harbour. Live for today! Boys in heaven. What a view! Kiss wife. “What smells?” she asks. I shrug.

11 a.m. Helicopter stops atop Grouse Mountain. Climb into grizzly habitat to commune. Grizz not in the mood.

1 p.m. Paraglide down with help of instructor. Exhilarating, until my breakfasts spontaneously refund. Instructor gets $200 tip. Try to give scruffy guy in parking lot $100. “I’m not homeless, you prick," he says, “I’m an actor.”

3 p.m. Rent Ferrari. Blaze across town with boys in our laps. Reach Richmond when spike belt brings car to screeching halt. Three police forces. Impressive!

4:30 p.m. Spend some time at Richmond detachment. Hungry again. Energy flagging, but resolve to stay course.

5:30 p.m. Dim Sum extravaganza at Richmond restaurant. Dumplings! Steamed buns! Chicken’s feet!

7:30 p.m. Go-karting with family on warehouse track, stogey clenched between teeth.

10 p.m. Leave kids with sitter, go dancing until wee hours.

3 a.m., day two: In cab home, fondly reflect upon new approach to life, living each day as last. Vow to do even better today. Start by selling the house, giving away everything.

Open cab door, see someone waiting at front door—that the old schoolmate I called this morning?

Chris Bryan is editor of the NewsLeader.

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